


Rude Awakening

by Kaysha33



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Consensual Kink, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 01:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaysha33/pseuds/Kaysha33
Summary: First: Yeah, I know, I suck at titles...Second: I suck at summaries, too...Also, this is my first submission on this site and in this fandom, so please be gentle. All comments are greatly appreciated.This is purely for fun, no profit is made.Summary:Someone is in for a helluva ride...This is a little something that popped into my head, and the plot bunny rammed its (surprisingly sharp) claws and teeth into my skin in the middle of the night and ranted and nagged, insisting on being written and not leaving me alone until I did.Just to clear things up a bit beforehand: these four have been lovers for a while now, CoE never happened, and I have a whole backstory made up behind this. If you want to know more about it or have questions about my headcanon, please just ask :-)Maybe then I'll get off my bloody arse and get some writing done ;-)Used my own Beta-Stick to beat the story into submission, also English is not my native language and there is no Brit-picking, so please feel free to point out glaring mistakes, if I missed anything or if something does not make sense, thank you :-)Last, please enjoy, I sure did writing this little titbit *waves*





	Rude Awakening

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he could not move. The second thing was that he could not see a thing. Shit. Bound and blindfolded. Usually this would turn him on, but he had no idea what had happened to him and how he had ended up here, wherever that was, so the situation he found himself in was more of a mood killer than anything else. His Time Agent training kicking in and keeping his breathing even, he tried to find out what he could about what was going on. He was on his belly, head turned to one side so he could breathe. He was spread-eagled, arms and legs outstretched and tied to something, not able to move. The material he was lying on was soft and yielding. A mattress, probably a bed, but there was no way to be sure.

Well, that was at least something, he thought. Whatever was going to happen, he would at any rate be comfortable. Could have been worse, he could’ve woken up hanging by his wrists, in chains… like that one time on Halderon III… hmmmm, that had been a memorable experience, for all involved…

The next thing he noticed was that while he was not completely naked, his upper body was bare, a slight flow of air cooling the skin of his back. He was still wearing the sweatpants from the light training he went through the evening before (well, he thought it was the previous evening, nothing indicated otherwise, his internal clock telling him he had been out for about ten hours).

Finally, another thing made an effort for his attention, waving and jumping and shouting frantically: his wrist strap was missing.

Well, damn.

John Hart suppressed a weary sigh. There was nothing he could do to find out where he was or who had tied him up and left him here. He could not remember something happening the night before, it had been a quiet night on rift duty in the Hub, the others had gone home after he volunteered taking over the night shift. The rift programs had predicted it to be boring and uneventful. And it had been.

The last thing he remembered clearly was heading for the common shower in the training area to clean up after some training to stop the boredom that was killing him (and because there had been no sign of trouble and being in the Hub, he had shed all his weapons for the shower). Then… nothing.

What the hell happened?

Suddenly he realised he was no longer alone in the room. Someone was watching him.

For a while nothing happened, whoever was there didn’t say a word, didn’t move, just kept watching him. John could feel eyes roaming over him, and it started to make him uneasy, twitchy. He tried to suppress a full-body shudder. Usually he didn’t mind being watched, he was good-looking and knew it (using it often enough for his advantage), and people, male and female, of many races often couldn’t take their eyes off him. But this was different. He wasn’t in control, someone else but him was calling the shots. In his kind of life that did never bode well…

Without warning there were hands on his legs and he jerked. Damn, he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised that the stranger had moved, steps so light and silent he hadn’t heard a thing. The hands started on his ankles, checking the bonds, and slowly moved upwards, over his calves and thighs, and grabbed a feel of his arse. They ended up by the waistband of his sweatpants riding low on his hips.

John forced himself to stay still. He had no idea what was going on, and annoying his captor without being able to benefit from it was not a good plan. That was also the reason that he didn’t say a word, no need to take a risk with his gob running amok (he usually prided himself in being able to drive anyone up the wall within a few minutes, and someone being angry enough made mistakes one could exploit, but that was not helpful here and now).

It proved to be a good thought, because all of a sudden there was something thin and cold pressing into his skin. A moment later, he could hear fabric being cut and there was a drift of cool air on his suddenly bare arse. His captor continued to cut him out of the sweatpants, and aside from that first moment the blade never touched his skin again.

In the end the blade disappeared and the leftover strips of his sweatpants were removed, then the hands were back, lightly wandering up over his now bare legs.

He once again tried to hide a shudder.

But it was no use, once those hands stroked his arse, fingers brushing against his opening, he jerked, instinctively trying to move away from the unwanted touch.

The hands disappeared only to reappear a moment later, carefully spreading his cheeks. He grunted, but kept silent. Just like his captor, who also still hadn’t said a word. Strange, that.

Suddenly he could not help but jerk again when something cold was smeared around and over his hole without so much as a hello. What the bloody hell? “Shit!” he moaned when the cold substance (lube, his brain supplied) was carefully applied, a finger first just probing then slowly entering his hole, spreading the lube around. The movements then were quick, almost clinical, but efficient. John tried to relax, to make it easier on himself. Helpless as he was there was no way he could stop his captor from doing what they wanted to do. Then the fingers disappeared again, and John took a deep breath.

There was a rustling sound and some movement, then the hands were back. One hand landed on his arse, spreading his cheeks again. Oh, what now? John hissed when the fingers of the other hand circled his exposed opening before two carefully pushed, entering him easily. Those fingers were pulled out immediately, only to be pushed back in, the action being repeated several times, making John swear and cuss in several languages.

He was finger-fucked for a while, more and more fingers and lube being applied, until finally there were four fingers spreading him open. He was panting and moaning constantly now, his skin covered in a sheen of perspiration. His prick had been hard for some time, pressed into the mattress beneath him. He mewled when, without warning, the fingers were pulled completely out of him and he was left gaping.

Trying to catch his breath, John subtly moved his hips, needing to get some friction on his aching erection.

A sharp slap to his arse cheek made clear that he had been caught out and his captor was not very happy with him.

There was movement again, then those hands made him lift his hips before something hard was snapped around the base of his cock and balls. “Oh noooooo,” John whined, “nonononoooooo, are you fucking kidding me?!?” Another slap to his arse made him shut up. Those clever fingers made sure the cock ring was securely in place, then disappeared once more. “Fuck!”

Next thing he knew, there was more lube, and something was carefully pressed against his hole. It was hard and unyielding, and it was slowly inserted into him. John moaned, realising he was about to get fucked without much hope of being able to come. “Shit!” At first he thought it was a dildo, but the more of the thing was pushed into him, the more the shape teetered out, becoming thicker and wider, spreading him open more and more. Like the fingers before, this thing was pushed into him, then pulled out a bit, then entering him deeper, spreading him even wider. When he finally thought he could not take any more of it and it would just rip him apart, the thing popped into his arse, the muscles of his ring automatically clamping around the thinner (but still thick enough to keep him wide open) neck of the huge plug that had been fully worked into him. “Bloody fucking hell!” he yelled, desperately trying to stay relaxed around the monstrosity.

Those hands were back on his arse cheeks and legs now, stroking him for a moment, then they vanished.

John moved, trying to put less pressure on his raging erection, but all that accomplished was that the plug shifted inside him, mashing into his prostate and sending shocks of pleasure through him, making him shudder, and that caused the plug to shift yet again. He groaned miserably and forced himself to fall still to stop the loop of move-mash-shock before it got any worse.

The presence that was his captor was still there, watching him struggle for a while, then it disappeared completely.

He was alone.

“Well, shit,” he muttered, this would be a looooong day (or night? he had lost any sense of time by now). The plug inside his arse was big, long and _very_ thick, filling him nicely, which he really, _really_ liked, but with the cock ring there was no chance for him to enjoy it properly.

All he could do was try to move as little as possible, and suffer.

 

*-*-*-* @____@ *-*-*-*

 

He had no idea how long he lay there, spread-eagled, stuffed like a Christmas goose and hard like a rock, when something changed. He became aware that he was no longer alone. Someone was watching him once more.

It wasn’t long before John felt movement, and hands were on him again. He froze, those were different hands, bigger, stronger. His nose confirmed what he suspected, this one was male. Come to think of it, the presence before had been female, strange that he didn’t notice that until now. Showed how much this situation was messing with his head. This pair of hands unceremoniously grabbed his arse, spreading his cheeks to grant their owner a perfect view of his filled hole.

John moaned softly when the plug was nudged, causing some havoc with his insides, then fingers traced the stretched rim of his opening. He shivered. Then the plug was gripped by the base, turned, pressed deeper into him. He shuddered and moaned again. When his captor started to pull the plug out, torturously slow, he whined. As soon as he was stretched as wide as the thickest part of the plug would go, the movement stopped, the plug being held there, and John could not keep himself from whimpering. The free hand of his captor held him down, forcing him to endure it without being able to escape. After a while the plug was pushed back in only to be pulled out again, held at the widest portion, again and again, driving John insane. Soon enough he was close, sooooo close, just a little more and he would come without being touched otherwise. He could feel it buzzing and sizzling through his veins, a tingling feeling that raced through his body, his prick twitching, balls contracting and drawing closer to his body in preparation for the grand finale…

… and then…

… nothing…

What the fuck…?

John started cursing colourfully. He was still teetering on the precipice but unable to fall over. The pleasure was almost unbearable now, he should have come but couldn’t. Something was holding him back. His cock was mashed into the mattress below, his prostate stimulated, and he just couldn’t come.

Damn.

John groaned, in helpless pleasure as well as in frustration. The cock ring. That had to be it, it did something to him (and in his aggravation, he did not think about the fact that 21st century sex toys should not be capable of doing this). All he could do was take it, bear it.

Damn and bloody fucking hell…

The stranger fucked him relentlessly, for hours it seemed, until suddenly, the plug was pulled out completely.

Without the cock ring, John would have come several times by now. But as it was, he was harder and more desperate than he had been when the stranger had stepped into this room.

Now he was so out of it, so frantic, needing to be fucked, needing to come, John shamelessly started to beg. “Please,” he keened, “please, fuck me, fuck me already, please. What the bloody hell are you waiting for? Do it! Fuck me, fuck me _hard_!”

There was a low chuckle, and if he would have been paying attention, John would have realised that it sounded familiar (just like the scent of this man should have registered as familiar). But he wasn’t paying attention, too desperate, too focused on wanting, no, _needing_ to be fucked, and _now, right now_.

Fingers traced his gaping hole, spreading lube again, then a body climbed on the mattress behind him, leaning over him, and a moment later, a thick cock was pushed into him, filling him up, in one swift thrust it was buried to the hilt in him and held there.

“Shit!” John had no time to adjust to the thickness before the stranger started a brutal pace, fucking him quick and hard, caring for nothing but his own pleasure. It wasn’t long before John heard a throaty growl above him, then hot wetness was pumped into him, the cock inside his arse twitching.

“Nooooooo,” he complained, “nononono, please, I need more, _please_!”

But there was nothing he could do when the stranger was finished and pulled out. He whimpered.

Before he could say more, plead more, the plug was shoved back into his arse, keeping the come from pouring out of his abused hole.

“Oh, fuck,” John whined, miserable.

The stranger stood, and did not move for a moment before he left.

John was alone once more, fucked and filled and stuffed again, and still no chance of getting off in sight.

This was hell…

 

*-*-*-* @____@ *-*-*-*

 

It did not take long before John had company yet again. Another pair of hands was stroking his skin now, male once more, but the hands were a bit more slender, the fingers a bit longer. Those fingers were cleverly teasing him, tracing the rim of his arse, then carefully finding a way to push between the plug and his flesh, entering him, stretching him more. He grunted, trying to stay still.

The plug was shifted, pressed against his prostate, making him groan, then the fingers were pulled out. “Fuck!” John had no idea who was with him, who his captors were, where he was, but he was so far gone that he didn’t care (had he been more lucid, he would have wondered why he felt not really threatened but safe despite everything that was going on). He desperately needed to be fucked, so he begged for it. “Shit! Fuck me already! I want that prick of yours, so get the hell on with it!”

This stranger tutted softly, but obliged. The plug was removed, slowly, torturously, just like before, and he was refilled quickly. This cock was not as thick but longer, reaching deeper. “Yessssss,” John hissed when the stranger bottomed out, then started to fuck him, roughly, relentlessly, his thrusts hard but slow. This one did not care for John’s pleasure, either, not that it would have made any difference with the cock ring. He fucked and fucked until he, too, came, twitching and groaning, before pulling out and stuffing the plug back in.

Then John was being left alone once more…

 

*-*-*-* @____@ *-*-*-*

 

This repeated itself several more times over the next couple of hours, both of his male captors fucking him, taking turns, more or less rough, filling him up with come more and more, then putting the plug in and leaving him to stew for a while…

 

*-*-*-* @____@ *-*-*-*

 

They had left him alone for quite some time now. John moaned softly, hips rutting without conscious thought, not aware of much but the aching need burning him up and the painful erection he still sported, the huge plug inside of him rubbing against all his most sensitive (and by now _very_ sore) places.

He did not hear that three people entered the room now, he did not hear them talking softly, he was too far gone to understand what was being said or that the voices of his captors were very familiar, indeed.

His clouded mind was not aware of anything but the _burning need_ that consumed him.

It took a while for him to realise that someone was quietly talking to him. There was a soft and wet cloth pressed against his neck and a gentle hand stroked his hair. Frowning, John tried to focus on the quiet voice, and after a while the sounds started to make sense.

“Jonno?” the voice said, probably not for the first time. “Jonno, can you hear me?”

Jonno? He frowned deeper and struggled to concentrate. No one called him Jonno anymore… no one… but his lovers… what the hell…?

“Jonno, can you hear me?” the voice asked again.

Those gentle fingers caressed his face now, brushing over his closed eyelids (oh, he hadn’t even noticed the blindfold had been removed), the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his lips. He smiled, and those fingers traced the smile carefully. That was nice, he decided. Strange, why would his captors be so nice to him?

“Please, open your eyes for me, Jonno.”

The voice was still soft, but John thought now he could hear a note of worry. That felt wrong somehow. This voice should not sound worried. He wanted to obey this voice so he tried to open his eyes, but it took some effort. Finally he blinked, and after a moment a blurry shape slowly swam into focus.

What the hell?!?

The face that looked down at him was very familiar, indeed, as were the faces that hovered beyond the first, all looking more or less anxious.

“Hello, twpsyn,” Aeronwy said with a smile, “are you back with us?”

“What the hell,” John croaked, eyes widening.

“Ahh, there you are, Jonno.”

“What the hell,” John rasped again.

“It seems we have broken him,” Ianto said drily, but his eyes, filled with concern, watched John carefully.

Jack moved forward and dropped to his knees to look into John’s eyes (so he _was_ lying on a bed after all). “How do you feel?” he asked, reaching out for a glass on the nightstand (nightstand?) and filling it with water. He offered it to John with a straw. Gratefully he gulped down the cool liquid, only now noticing how parched he was.

“Do you want to stop?” Aeronwy wanted to know. “We can always stop, Jonno.”

John finally realised what was happening here. His lovers had been spinning a fantasy, for him (and come to think of it, that also explained the working of the cock ring he still sported, 21st century sex toys usually were not that sophisticated, were not capable of stopping someone from reaching orgasm completely like this one perfectly did, drawing it out, yes, but not stopping it, so it had to be a little trinket from Jack’s box of secrets, a little toy from their home era in the 51st century). Lifting his head a bit, he could see that there was a candle burning next to his wrist strap (thank the stars) on the nightstand, _his_ nightstand, in _his_ bedroom in the Hub. He was home, and safe, and his lovers, his wonderfully crazy and caring lovers, had taken some lengths to fulfil one of his more kinky fantasies.

Thinking back on the last hours he understood why, instinctively, he had not felt threatened. Deep down he had recognized his lovers, their touch, their hands, their scent, their bodies. He had felt safe. He smiled. “I want more,” he whispered hoarsely. “Give me more…”

Jack smiled in response. “We will,” he promised. “We will fuck you and fill you up with our come, put the plug into you to keep our come inside, then we will fuck you again and again, until you are so full you think you will burst.” He reached out to nudge the plug that was still stuffed up his arse. “And when you are filled to the brink with our come, only then you will be allowed to come yourself. How does that sound?”

John stared up at his old friend and shivered with anticipation. “Perfect,” he groaned and lifted his hips to help with being fucked.

“He looks eager,” Ianto stated. He moved, slowly stroking himself back to hardness, kneeling behind John, while Aeronwy carefully worked the plug out. Ianto slowly pushed his prick into the pulsating hole, a bit of the come dribbling out, but instead of just starting to fuck, he waited, letting John adjust, before setting a steady pace, not brutal this time but strong. He had John whimper at once. Taking his time, Ianto worked John into a frenzy, bringing him to the edge to let him hover there, before quickening his pace to reach his own peak, coming with a groan. After a moment he pulled out, rolling to the side, letting Jack take his place.

John got fucked a lot that day (or was it days? he didn’t know anymore), just like Jack had promised, his lovers again taking turns.

A while in, John was untied and turned on his back, then tied back up. His cock, swollen and dripping and red, was now curved over his lower belly, too heavy with blood to proudly stand upright. And much to his delight, Aeronwy finally took part in their little game, aside from touching and stroking and kissing or using the plug on him. Straddling him, she took his prick in hand and held him steady, then lowered herself down, taking his entire length inside of her. He groaned. “Fuck!”

“I intend to,” she smiled. Then she started to move, fucking herself on his cock, slowly climbing higher and higher to the brink, hovering there a bit, then tumbling over with a low moan and a curse.

After that it all became a blur, John being shagged by all three of his lovers, until he lost all sense of time or self. He floated, letting them take anything they wanted, no longer caring if he himself would reach orgasm or not. From time to time he was offered more water, which he accepted greedily and gratefully. His belly, usually flat, slowly filled and rounded with every load he received. In the end, he felt so full he thought he could explode.

That was the moment when Aeronwy, while it was Jack’s turn to fuck John, reached out for the cock ring. As soon as Jack’s thrusts became erratic, heralding his impending orgasm, she opened the ring, and John screamed when the blood circulation restarted. It took just a few hard thrusts for John to come, his cock twitching and spurting come all over himself and Jack’s chest. Jack followed quickly after, filling John up one last time. John continued screaming and coming and howling and coming and then coming some more until, several minutes later, he abruptly fell silent, eyes rolling back into his head, and passed out.

Jack collapsed on top of John’s body, breathing hard. “Wow,” he gasped, “that was intense.”

Ianto and Aeronwy were there at once, Ianto helping Jack to move and lie down, then checking on John and untying him, while Aeronwy carefully eased the plug back in to keep all the mixed come inside. This would be one last fantasy being fulfilled, as soon as John was conscious and himself again.

Until then they would sleep for a while.


End file.
